Tim turned and followed Mrs Jones’ gaze. The newcomer was almost a carbon copy of her mother, a little shorter by an inch perhaps, somewhat coltish,...slightly flatter chested and a little less shapely, but with similar coloured hair, worn long down her back a good half a metre longer. She possessed the same brilliant smile as her mother adorned, with the addition of the cutest of dimples in her cheeks.“Nothing at all I like out there, Mother,” she said as she approached, her voice pitched. "I walked over and took Andrea by the hand and said, "Close your eyes." Then I led her across the room and positioned her about twelve feet from the easel and turned her around."OK, now you can look."She stood perfectly still for a while. Then she cocked her head to one side, then the other. When I was pretty much convinced she hated it, she broke into a smile and asked, "Mrs. James, do you think I'll ever get this good?" It's certainly worth aiming at, Andrea, but you should understand that. More

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